


Raven Feathers and Fox Blood

by Luci_Cunt



Series: Fuck the Game [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Cannon Rewrite, M/M, and cannon events, andrew's pov, warnings for cannon violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-30 18:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luci_Cunt/pseuds/Luci_Cunt
Summary: The 2nd installation of me rewriting the All For the Game series but from Andrew Minyard's POVThis is The Raven King, but Andrew





	Raven Feathers and Fox Blood

**Author's Note:**

> k;adskflsd I'm sorry this took so long oh my GOD, I've had this sitting half done in my google docs for the past month. 
> 
> BUT–I finally started college!!! My history class is so cool I cried on my first day because the teacher went "Why is American history a required subject in American schools? Well, for me to answer that I have to go all the way back to the beginnings of Christianity."
> 
> It's so cool y'all (also no I'm not at faith school or anything XD America is just fucking wack and Puritans were AWEFUL, but thank's Martin Luther for public education! XD Sorry I don't use it to read the bible and love god, that's Renee's thing)
> 
> Anyways–updates are gonna be a bit touch and go from now on since I'll try and update as much as possible but I want to make sure I pass?? XD Love y'all tho and I'm SO thankful for all the wonderful comments on my last work <33333
> 
> WARNINGS: this chapter Higgins pops up and Andrew starts crumblin a lil and Drake is mentioned, nothing explicit, just flash back thingies like in the last one. Stay safe loves <33
> 
> OH and a NOTE– I changed the convo with Higgins and Andrew at the end there, cause, the one in the books didn't really make sense? And I'm not sure at all what Nora was trying to have Higgins say so I just kind of winged it, lemme know if you think it should be different/

“Halloween season’s here, have any good books you’re reading?” Bee asked pleasantly as Andrew sat down across from her in the warmly lit office. She had pumpkins and little black witch hats and brooms all added to her perfectly organized room. Plus the cocoa was pumpkin spice and there was a bowl overflowing with candy on the low table between them. Andrew was slowly making his way through the bowl, carefully dropping each of his emptied wrappers on the floor around him as Bee gave him a disapproving, thin-lipped look. Bee’d always liked Halloween, which Andrew didn’t understand. 

A day rooted in fear and made for terror. 

When Andrew was young, he’d _begged_ for his terrors to be relegated to a single day a year. 

But it did bring candy at least, and cheaper drinks at Eden’s, so he supposed it wasn’t all bad. 

When Andrew just stuffed another mini Milky Way bar in his mouth and took a long sip of the cocoa instead of answering, Bee continued on her own, undiscouraged. 

“I was thinking of finally starting something by Lovecraft, I’ve always been too afraid to read anything by him,” she admitted with a laugh, “but I’ve been told if I want to say I’m a fan of horror at all, I have to read at least _something_ by him.” She took a sip of her cocoa and watched Andrew drop another wrapper on the floor. Andrew was watching her eyebrow though. 

Betsy Dobson was a kind, round woman with thick brown hair she usually wore in a loose ponytail over her shoulder. She had big glasses and wrinkles all over her face from a lifetime of genuine smiles and warmth. 

Her left eyebrow also ticked when something was bothering her–e.g. Andrew dumping used candy wrappers on the ground when there was a perfectly good trash can right next to him on the other side of the couch. 

“You’ve read Lovecraft haven’t you? Would you recommend anything specifically?” She asked, and then finally–

_Twitch, twitch._

Andrew grinned, and then collected all wrappers from the pile they’d been on the floor and dumped them in the trash. The twitch vanished instantly, replaced by a knowing sigh. 

“A better author for starters, Lovecraft was a boring panphobic dumbass,” Andrew said, finishing off his cocoa and using his finger to scrape the sugar and unmixed cocoa mix off the bottom of the mug. 

“Hmm, really? In that case, is there anything else?” 

“Horror books are boring in general,” Andrew said, keeping his eyes on the soggy remnants of his cocoa. “Nothing comes close to the blood and gore celibacy propaganda like horror movies.”

“Well, do you have any plans for this Halloween?” Andrew sucked on his finger and squinted his eyes mock thoughtfully. 

“Excessive alcohol use, disgusting the morally righteous, pondering the concept of fast-tracking my eternal damnation–you know, Tuesday nights,” he said with a grin he’d never feel. The drugs were soaking through his system like they always seemed to be. Making his words like whipped cream on top of cocoa. Melting and impossible to get a good bite of unless you plucked it right off and made a mess of your hand. 

“Are you having suicidal urges again?” Bee asked, her tone growing serious. Always honing in on the important details. 

Andrew laughed. “I can’t focus enough to actually follow through anyways, so don’t worry Bee, these drugs are good for something,” he said, setting the cocoa mug down on the table and digging through the candy bowl for something that wasn’t 3 Musketeers or Almond Joy.

Bee set down her own cocoa–only half finished–and leaned forward slightly. 

“Before you say it, we’ve already tried the suicidal angle Bee, they won’t let up so don’t even offer it as an option, I hate liars,” Andrew said, not taking his eyes off the bowl. He could see Bee purse her lips out of the corner of his eyes. 

The only reason Andrew had gotten out of being jailed for assault for saving Nicky’s ass, was that his lawyer had plead mental illness. So he got antipsychotics, and now, if he were to change that diagnosis, it would make the plea meaningless and he’d be shipped back off to a cozy little prison cell. 

At least in prison he wouldn’t have to stand on a court and get barked at by Kevin all day. 

At least in prison there wasn’t blue-eyes, following him around and being like a burr dug in under Andrew’s skin. 

Stickball always seemed to follow him though, and blue-eyes would just haunt his dreams. 

_Uh oh, Bee’s talking and you didn’t notice, catch up Trainwreck. _

“...make sense that you’re feeling a little out of it Andrew, seeing as how your teammate met a rather untimely and unfortunate end. Even if you say you weren’t close with him, death does tend to bring up things we don’t expect, memories, thoughts… ideas…” she finished slowly, as though giving Andrew the opportunity to jump in and agree with her. To open his mouth and spill all his secret little morsels stuck in his brain. 

But he didn’t. 

“That’s the time Bee, it’s been mind numbing as usual,” he said with a hollow grin, and he stood up. Bee followed suit, her face still scrunched up in disapproval, but she didn’t say anything, just offered Andrew a tight smile. 

“You’re doing great Andrew, things are rough right now, it’s ok to admit it,” she added, Andrew flipped her off as he left but didn’t slam the door. 

Nicky jumped up from his chair in the lobby, tossing a magazine aside with a dramatic groan. “I can’t _believe_ people,” he said, Andrew just rolled his eyes at his cousin, and then lead him out to the car.

Nicky chattered the whole ride back to the court and Andrew enthusiastically ignored him. The rest of the team was already dressed and stretching in the foyer when Nicky and Andrew arrived, they all shot him furtive glances, like a bomb had just walked into the room. Andrew grinned at them all, singling Renee out as she smiled pleasantly and murmured a hello. 

“Hi Renee,” Andrew returned. “Are you moving back into the dorm yet?” 

“Tonight,” Renee said. “We packed Matt’s truck this morning.” Andrew hummed at that. He noticed no Allison and no Abby–well, and no Seth. 

Aaron was pointedly not looking at him, Kevin shot him a scathing look that Andrew was familiar just meant he didn’t like that Andrew had an appointment that interrupted practice, Coach looked tired, and Neil. 

Neil Neil Neil Neil Neil. 

Panic didn’t pretend he wasn’t looking, his eyes flickered over Andrew, and then the group, and then finally went back to his own business. He met Andrew’s eyes for a second and then went back to fixing something on his sleeve.

Andrew scanned the rest of the group and then him, and was fleetingly annoyed that Neil’s exy gear was the only thing he owned and wore regularly that fit him decently.

_You mean that makes his thighs look like_ that. 

More interestingly though was the new seating arrangement that had graced the foyer. The Monster’s couch now with two chairs on either side, leaving a couch and a chair for the Upperclassmen. He laughed and then left to go get changed out. 

Not five minutes later though a phone went off and then Wymack yelled for him. 

“Andrew Joseph Minyard, what the flying fuck have you done this time?” 

“It wasn’t me, it was the one-armed man!” Andrew yelled back. 

“Get out here!” Wymack roared. Andrew finished getting dressed and then walked back to the foyer, where Wymack pointed the phone at him and said, “The police are on the phone for you. You’d better come clean with me before I get the unabridged version from them.” He was doing a good job with the gruff-and-angry facade but Andrew could tell he was still rocked by Seth’s death. It probably shouldn’t be surprising, Wymack had hand picked Gordon his first year, and Gordon had stuck with him all these years. It was exactly why Andrew hadn’t pointed out the bags and empty to-go coffee mugs that had been growing. Andrew shrugged.

“It wasn’t me. Ask my doppelgänger?” Wymack scowled and put the phone back to his ear, unmuting the mic. 

“What seems to be the problem, Officer… Higgins, you said?” 

The world tilted violently and Andrew’s arms felt numb.

“Oh,” Andrew said, shaking his arms to get feeling back. “No, Coach.” Wymack waved at him to be quiet, but Andrew grabbed Wymack’s wrist and wrenched the phone out of his grasp. Wymack caught his jersey before Andrew could run off. Andrew didn’t react to the grab, he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the phone in his numb arm. 

Blood rushed through his head and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hear Higgens even if he put the phone to his ear. 

“Don’t make him wait all day,” Wymack said, it was enough of a prod to get Andrew moving. He turned, not enough to break loose but enough he could see his brother. Aaron had stopped mid-stretch to stare at him, he looked pointedly questioning. Andrew threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug and finally put the phone at his ear, took a deep breath and willed the echoing_ please please please please please_’s to go away. 

“Pig Higgins, is that you?” Andrew asked. 

“Minyard,” the man’s voice said on the other end of the phone. He sounded almost surprised that Andrew had answered.

“Oh, it is. Yes, I’m surprised. Did you forget I don’t like surprises?” 

“No, I didn’t Andrew. This wouldn’t have been so intrusive if you’d just pick up your own phone, but instead I had to go through–” he started, and despite the words he sounded resigned instead of angry. Andrew decided that wasn’t a good thing.

“No, don’t stall. You wouldn’t hunt me down after all this time just to chat, so what do you want?” Andrew interrupted. 

“It’s about Spear.” 

Andrew was surprised everyone else could stay standing when the world kept tilting like that. 

“No.” he hung up. 

The phone immediately started ringing again. He could tell the other Foxes were all staring at him but he couldn’t find the ground to care. Everything was crumbling around him and he was barely reforming a platform to be solid on. It was like the world was made of sand, like Andrew was made of sand. 

Andrew tore himself out of Wymack’s grasp and shoved himself until he had his back against a wall. His skin was crawling and his lungs were shuddering. He picked the phone back up again with a shaking hand and clasped his other over his free ear. 

“Don’t you dare hang up on me Minyard,” Higgins said sharply. 

“What? No, I didn’t hang up on you. I wouldn’t do that. I—” Andrew struggled to keep his tone bored.

“You did, I know it’s shitty to call you right now but I have to other choice.”

“No. Shut up.” Andrew hung up again, but Higgins was persistent enough to call a third time. Andrew let it ring five times before answering with an explosive sigh. His lungs felt like they were made of puddy, too heavy to inflate and getting stuck together with every exhale. “Talk to me,” Andrew said.

“It’s Spear–I’m doing my best but they need… they need a witness, a victim to prove what I’m saying. They won’t just take it at face value. No one else will come out and they’re going to let him go back,” Higgins explained. Andrew felt the words cut through his mania like a blade through paper. His smile fell away–finally–and his chest was frozen. His foot was tapping and he dragged a hand over his face. 

He felt hot and cold all over, and every shadow was stalking towards him and every breeze was a hand on his arms and legs and face and chest and holding him–

“Go back,” Andrew repeated numbly, as Higgins' words caught up with him.

“I’m trying to fight it–”

“Oh, Pig, don’t give me the runaround. I know where you work, you see. And I know _him._ That means there’s a child in her house. She isn’t supposed—”

“She’s had more Andrew, I couldn’t stop that. According to every court she’s still an upstanding foster mother and there’s nothing I can do to change that unless you come in and testify–”

“What?” Andrew’s fingers were numb, he shook his head out, “No. Don’t ask me that.”

“Andrew–”

“I said _don’t._ Leave me alone. Hey–” Andrew said, louder to drown out his pounding heart and Higgins’ budding argument, “Call me again and I’ll kill you.”

This time when he hung up, the phone stayed silent. Andrew wanted to scream, but all that bubbled out was that hysterical laugh that made him feel even more hollow, like he was coming apart at the seams and all that was being revealed was air and bugs. 

He laughed, and covered his eyes with his hands because the shadows just kept creeping and creeping and now it was dark and there were hands–

“What’s so funny?” Nicky’s voice said suddenly, he’d apparently joined the group, “What did I miss?” 

“Oh, nothing,” Andrew said, gritting his teeth so hard he was surprised they didn’t crack. “No worries.” He felt sick, and as he removed his hand and looked back down Aaron was watching him, along with all the other Foxes. Aaron was the only one who knew Higgins, but he had no idea about Drake. 

_Spear._

_AJ, A, Andy. AJ, A, Andy but never Andrew, because abusers take everything from you, even your name, and they twist it until it fits in the palm of their hands and leaves you with nothing but the ability to lick the soles of their boots. _

Wymack looked from Andrew to Aaron and back again. “Now what have you done?” He asked, but it was a hollow anger. Andrew could tell Wymack was more concerned than pissed, but all the words coming out of his mouth were twisting and twisting and the hands on Andrew were getting tighter and tighter and his lungs were shrinking and–

_AJ, oh poor AJ, you thought you’d get away that easy? _

Andrew spread his fingers and peered between them at Wymack, putting a barrier between himself and the man even though he knew Wymack was the last person he should be afraid of. “What makes you think this is my fault?” he said, empty. 

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question,” Wymack said, his eyes scanning Andrew. “Why is the Oakland PD calling you?” 

“The pig and I go way back,” Andrew said. “He just wanted to catch up.” 

“You lie to my face one more time and we’re going to have a problem.” 

“It was mostly the truth.” Andrew dropped his hand and tossed the phone across the room._ Problem problem problem problem problem._

_We’re not going to have a problem are we AJ? You can keep a secret can’t you?_

The phone hit the ground so hard the back popped off. The handset slid one direction and the battery went the other. “He worked with the Oakland PAL program. Thought he could save at-risk kids by teaching them sports after school. Kind of like you, yes? Idealistic to the core.”

“You left Oakland three years ago.” 

“Yes, yes, I’m so flattered he remembers me, or something.” Andrew waved one hand in a lazy blasé gesture and started for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wymack put an arm into his path. It took everything for Andrew to stop himself from burying a knife in the man’s arm out of bare instinct.

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m leaving.” Andrew pointed past Wymack in the direction of the exit. “Didn’t I say I’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe I mumbled.” 

“We’ve got practice,” Ma-dam Cap-i-tan Dan said. “We have a game on Friday.” 

“Stunning revelation, you have Joan of Exy over there. Make do without me.” 

“Cut the shit, Andrew,” Wymack said. “What is really going on here?” 

Andrew put a hand to his forehead dramatically. “I think I’m coming down with something. Cough, cough. Best I leave before I infect your team. There’s so few of them left. You can’t stand to lose anyone else.”

Kevin looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, but all Andrew wanted was to drink until he couldn’t tell the ceiling from the floor and then pass out and never wake up. 

“Knock it off. You can’t leave,” Kevin tried. Everything in Andrew was shriveling and dying and all he could do was grin. He turned on Kevin.

“I can’t, Kevin? I’ll show you what I can’t do. Try and put me on your court today and I’ll take myself off it permanently. Fuck your practice, your line-up, and your stupid fucking game.” Kevin scowled.

“That’s enough. We don’t have time for your tantrums,” he snapped.

Andrew twisted and punched the wall hard enough to split the skin along his knuckles. Pain exploded in his hand, jolting all the way up his arm to his elbow. Kevin took a quick step forward, hand out like he could stop Andrew from landing a second blow, but Wymack was closer. He caught Andrew’s arm and hauled him away from the wall. Andrew didn’t look away from Kevin to acknowledge the interference. Only when Kevin finally stepped back did Andrew try to pull free of Wymack’s grip. 

“Cough, cough, Coach,” Andrew said. “I’m leaving now.” 

“Coach, let him go,” Aaron said. “Please.” 

Andrew closed his eyes and bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood. He clenched his fist and it ached. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, didn’t act. He just sucked in every emotion and feeling and buried it in his chest.

The panic, the ragged, jagged edges no one needed to see, he folded them into something bitesized and swallowed it. By the time he opened his eyes again he felt light headed, Wymack was giving him a serious look, but he’d dropped his hand, and Andrew was smiling again, it hurt. 

“You and I are going to have a very long talk later, Andrew.”

“Sure,” Andrew said, blandly. And then he left.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS HURT MY SOUL.
> 
> I forgoottttt how much of a fucking HEART SHREDDER this book is for Andrew. 
> 
> FUck my BOY.
> 
> Anyways– tell me what you think! Or just keyboard smash in the comments I'll squeal no matter what. THank y'all!!! <33


End file.
